Blue Skies
by GreyCatalyst
Summary: Emily is one of the leading actresses of the hit TV show, Blue Skies. Naomi is an up and comer who lands a guest spot on the show. When their characters are unexpectedly thrown together, the lines between their professional and personal lives steadily begin to blur.
1. Chapter 1

Hey there. This is my first Naomily/Skins story ever. I hope it's something you guys find interesting enough to keep coming back to. I'll do my best to update as frequently as possible. Feedback always welcome.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

_"I hope we're in the same form."_

_"Fucking brilliant this year will be..."_

_"Sarai and Kenny were totally shagging."_

She stops herself at the entrance, trying to ignore the snippets of conversation that flows around her as she stares at the large grey building ahead of her. Students, a faceless sea of bodies to her, continue to rush by, most barley registering the existence of the scowling blonde. A breeze whips through her, the morning chill settling in her bones. She shivers and folds her arms, pulling the lapels of her black blazer closer together. With a sigh she forces her feet forward.

Someone bumps into her from behind, hands already reaching to catch her before she stumbles. Her head jerks around, eyes rounding in surprise when she has to look down to find her offender. She's met with the top of bright red hair. It blazes beneath the sun and she recoils, blinking away the sight.

"I'm so sorry," a soft husky voice rings out, drawing her gaze back to the tiny girl in front of her. A pair of wide dark brown eyes stare up at her apologetically. She feels the catch of her breath and looks away.

Her eyes land once again on the building ahead, then flicker quickly back to the now curious looking red head beside her.

"Laura," a voice shouts through the crowd. "Hurry up!"

Laura's face twists, her eyes rolling in annoyance but the corners of her mouth tug upwards at the blonde still standing there. With a shrug and a final apology she disappears into the throng of students moving towards the building. She doesn't look back and the blonde knows because she hasn't taken her eyes off of the girl yet.

Suddenly an arm is thrown over her shoulders and she has to try not to flinch at the extra strength cologne assaulting her nostrils.

"Ali," the sandy haired boy starts, pulling her closer to press a tender kiss on one side of her face. "Been lookin' everywhere for ya'."

The pale of her ice blue eyes soften for a moment. "Hey Sky.".

He gestures with his free arm towards the building and bodies of students. "Let's go, yea?"

"Alright, stop it there."

The screen pauses, the images of Sky and Ali frozen in place. If one looked close enough they could see a flash of red in the distant background. The same gruff voice that called for a stop starts talking again, the owner digging excitedly through a stack of messy papers.

"Did you see it? The moment I was talking about earlier? I didn't catch it at first but there's no missing it now. Fuck, wait-here it is," he stops and slides two packets of paper from the middle of the pile. He hands one of each to the two women across the table from him.

The blonde shrugs, eyebrows stitched together in confusion as she stares at the script in her hands. The red head beside her twirls the end of her ponytail around a finger, doe eyes curious but apprehensive. She places the script in her lap but doesn't look at it.

"Are you serious?"

Jon nods eagerly, not being able to contain his excitement for what's, essentially, stumbled right into their laps. The writers had taken one look at the final cut of that scene and rewrote almost an entire episode. Granted they won't be shooting the episode for another few weeks still.

"It's going to be great. The introduction of Ali was always supposed to shake things up but with this," he tilts his head at the laptop resting between them, "it's not just a couple characters that'll be affected. This will shift dynamics all over, especially for Laura who's connected in some way to each character."

"It could work," the red head concedes, albeit hesitantly. She casts a look at the sullen blonde slouched in the seat beside her. "What do you think Naomi?"

"I don't know," Naomi shrugs again. She tucks her bottom lip between her teeth. "What moment did this come from? I thought Ali was just meant to fuck things up a bit, yea? Explain Sky's sordid past and such."

"Campbell," Jon's green eyes narrow, running his hands through already messy hair. After reading the new scripts he'd been up all night going through all possible ramifications of going forward with this. "For fuck's sake how can you be so clever on screen and so fucking clueless off it?"

"When Ali watches Laura walk away," Emily cuts in, the husky tone of her voice gentle as she explains. She rests a hand on the blonde's arm a moment but pulls away when she feels her newest co-worker tense under her touch. "It plays like she couldn't look away. There's chemistry there."

"So they fall for each other," Naomi nods, still biting her bottom lip, mulling over this latest development. She'd been floating around from various commercials and small tv spots for a couple years now before landing the three episode stint as the hot headed Ali Shepard on the popular TV show, _Blue Skies_. A romantic entanglement could lead to more screen time, possibly guest appearances at the very least. But it could also make her into a joke. "Then what? I have nothing against playing a lesbian but I'm not sure I want to be a part of some cheap ratings prop. I mean I know it's not really my place and I-."

"No, this is good," Jon is grinning now, looking between the two of them. "I want you to take this seriously. It's why I wanted a moment alone with the two of you. The rest of the cast won't see the new script until after the winter hiatus but I wanted the two of you to get to know one another, build on what's already there."

His phone buzzes against the table top and he looks away to check his messages. He dismisses them with a wave of his hand. "Go on, get to it then."

She's just about made it out the building when Emily stops her.

"Would you like to grab coffee? Maybe a late lunch?"

Naomi sighs and turns to the waiting red head behind her. "I've got plans."

"Oh," Emily says, her disappointment evident. "Well maybe some other time."

She's left standing just inside the office building by herself, her newest coworker moving further and further away without another word. Emily pushes her way through the doors after a moment in time to see James Cook, the actor who plays Skylar, run across the parking lot, scooping Naomi up into a huge hug.

"Fookin' hell Naomikins," he bellows. "Meetin' took long enough."

Naomi pushes him away, rolling her eyes. "Fuck off Cook."

He laughs, a loud howling noise escaping as he just pulls her to him again. "Oi babes," he grins, wide and toothy. "Time to get fookin' mental innit? Freds is waitin' for..."

Emily can't hear anymore, the direction of her car taking her away from the other two. She catches blue eyes on her and quickly averts her gaze. She checks her phone for any messages or missed calls, having turned it off while in the meeting with Jon.

Three missed calls and two waiting texts from her twin sister. She opens the messages as she unlocks her car.

_**Party at Effy's. **_

She slides down to the next one.

_**And bring my red heels back bitch!**_

Emily fires back a quick response to let Katie know she'll be over soon then tosses her phone on the passenger seat. She's pulling out of the parking lot as Naomi and Cook break out in laughter, still standing beside the blonde's dark blue Jeep Wrangler. Her eyes linger a little longer than they should on the sight of them before snapping back to the road ahead of her. She has a feeling Naomi will be a handful to work with.


	2. Chapter 2

Alrighty here's another one :) Sorry for any mistakes, had to use my iPad since my laptop is being uncooperative.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Sadly.

* * *

Flick.

Flick.

Flick.

Cook lights the spliff on the third try. He takes a long drag before passing it to Naomi. She has to squirm, the bean bag beneath her harder to maneuver than she'd given it credit for, to take the joint from his outstretched hand. She glares at Freddie's amused chuckles.

They were spread out in Freddie's and Cook's shed, Naomi half reclined on a green bean bag chair, Cook sprawled out on the large sofa beside her and Freddie resting comfortably in a rusted '68 Chevy Camaro. Though she's known Cook longer, it hasn't taken her long to learn the four loves of Freddie McLair's life are spliffs, women, American muscle cars, and his writing job on Blue Skies. In that order.

"So," Cook's voice breaks through their comfortable silence, "you and Lil' Red gonna be gettin' ya's wiggle waggle on then?"

Caught off guard, the blonde actress starts to choke, small puffs of smoke escaping as she fights to clear her throat. _Fuckssake._ Of course Freddie would have told him.

Freddie just laughs his features boyish beneath floppy dark bangs. He leans forward, his lanky body hanging awkwardly out of the car so he can pluck the fading spliff from Naomi's pale fingers. He tosses her the water bottle he'd been holding as compensation.

She swallows down a mouthful greedily, clearing her aching throat a few more times for good measure. She scowls.

"_Emily_ and I won't be doing anything."

"Come on mate." Cook goads, sitting up now. "That's top shelf quality right there."

"Then why don't you wiggle waggle," her face contorts unpleasantly at the use of Cook's terminology, "with her then?"

She'd met Cook a year ago, when she'd been an extra in some B rated horror movie he'd had the misfortune to star in. Rise of the Arachnids, she thinks it was called. They'd had a rocky start, his constant need to get in her knickers a point of aggravation. It wasn't until she'd ran into him inside a club a few months later that they'd become friends. He'd supplied her with an endless amount of shots and she'd played wingman for him in return. Though he still took a pass from time to time at her they'd settled into a solid friendship since then. It was partly his doing she'd even gotten in the door to audition for the role of Ali Shepard.

"Isn't for lack of trying," Freddie says, a trail of smoke following his words. He grins up at the shed's ceiling, the roof of the Camaro missing. Takes another hit.

"Naw got me eye on a different Fitch now."

Freddie nods, eyes glazed over, "She'll be at Eff's tonight."

And like that the conversation shifts away from her impending entanglement with Emily Fitch. Naomi is grateful for the momentary distraction. She's not really sure how to feel about the possibility of their characters becoming close yet. _That close,_ anyways. On one hand, it would definitely be good for her career if it meant a longer stay on the show. If she worked hard enough, it might even lead to something possibly more permanent. There are worse crews to get stuck with, she figures. But on the other hand she isn't sure how she's supposedly going to make Ali falling in love believable when she hasn't even grasped the concept of it herself in real life.

"Right then," Freddie declares, rubbing the spliff out on side of his converse. He tucks what's left of it behind an ear. "To Keith's?"

Cook doesn't have to be asked twice. He hops up, pulling a reluctant blonde with him as he reaches for the faded grey jacket he'd discarded earlier. He has to pull his trousers up, his superman boxers peeking out in the back. Freddie grabs a tattered cardigan before they leave. Naomi shakes her head, wondering why they insist on dressing like street kids when they have plenty of decent clothes lying around. Not that her ripped jeans and old uni sweatshirt are really raising the standards of fashion any.

Cook loops an arm around her shoulders as they walk, and like his character's heavy cologne, the familiar scent of stale beer and marijuana makes her cringe.

"Think Red will be up for a little pre re'earsal later?"

Blue eyes roll in annoyance. Unfortunately _unlike _his character who knew when to keep his mouth shut Cook's lack of filter was less than impressive at times.

* * *

Keith's Pub isn't the shittiest pub she's ever been to but it's pretty fucking close, she thinks, stumbling out of the doors on the back of Freddie, his hands straying a little too far from the thighs that are wrapped around his waist. He's just grazed her ass when she slaps him in the back of the head causing him to shake in laughter. He wobbles dangerously. Naomi squeals and tightens her grip around his shoulders but they fall to the ground regardless. He lands face first still laughing, her fall cushioned by his body beneath her.

Cook's come out the door behind them, a half empty pint in one hand and stares at the sight of them sprawled out on the pavement. He gives a wolfish whistle, "didn't know ya were takin' it up the arse these days Freds."

Naomi snorts, rather disgracefully and scrambles to get off of the other boy. Freddie rolls onto his back and grins lazily. He pulls the spliff from his ear and lights up, right there on the sidewalk.

"Only for you Cookie," he mumbles around the joint hanging from his lips.

"Fookin' tosser," Cook howls. "Wait 'till I tell Jay-man he's got some competition."

Mention of the set's lighting technician reminds Naomi of why they'd left the Pub to begin with. Elizabeth Stonem's party. A small get together by the cast before they all jetted to wherever they were spending the Christmas holidays. Normally she'd avoid such a function but Freddie and Cook had both insisted she tag along.

"Where's this Effy bird live anyways," she asks, ready to move on before her buzz dies. She stuffs her hands in her jean's pockets, rocking back and forth on her feet impatiently.

Freddie tilts his head back further into the cement, his eyes rolling to the expensive flats in the distance ahead of them. "'Tis the way to your lover m'lady."

"Cheeky bastard," she rolls her eyes and kicks him swiftly in the leg.

She starts walking in the direction he'd indicated, smirking when she hears the boys scurrying to catch up. She's not really upset, having grown used to their comments throughout the night. They'd been taking the piss out of her all evening.

They've almost reached the row of apartments when Cook takes a right, turning down a street with two story houses nestled comfortably alongside one another in a cul-de-sac. It's a quiet evening and all of the houses are so painfully normal that she's almost disappointed. After reading about the elusive Elizabeth Stonem over the last few years she'd expected something more from the high profile actress than suburban living.

"Oi, Blondie this way!"

Realizing she's stopped walking, Naomi hurries after them. Freddie and Cook slow their paces as they approach the dark grey house at the head of the cul-de-sac. The curtains are open and she can make out the shapes of bodies moving around in, what she's assuming is, the living room. Dance music drifts down the street.

The closer she gets the clearer the house guests become. A blonde with pigtails is hopping around, either dancing or having a seizure, Naomi isn't sure. A tall waif like brunette twirls absently beside her, whiskey glass in one hand and fag in the other. When she moves, Naomi's eyes are left staring at a petite red head, who's body sways in time to whatever tune is currently playing. _Emily Fitch._

Emily's eyes are closed, as if unaware there are people still around, her hands rising to the space above her head. There's something so sensual about the way she moves that Naomi is momentarily stunned by the sight of it. It's then her brain chooses to remind her that this is the girl, no- _woman _who's she going to be sharing screen time with in just under three weeks_. Christ._

She watches as the brunette slips behind Emily, molding their bodies together to continue the dance. Without opening her eyes, a smile spreads across the red head's face, hands falling to the ones splayed across the fabric of her white top.

Freddie elbows her gently in the ribs. She ignores him, grabbing blindly to her left where she knows Cook will be. He doesn't argue, just smirks, when Naomi chugs the rest of his beer. _Muff munchers_. He fucking loves them.


	3. Chapter 3

Well this is took longer than planned. Should have known life would suddenly decide to get busy once I finally start a story lol Feedback/comments always welcome.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Sadly :(

* * *

Naomi doesn't like unfamiliar places, especially when they come with unfamiliar people. Mostly, she just doesn't like the unfamiliar. It makes her uncomfortable and always leaves her feeling as if there are a thousand tiny ants making their home just beneath the surface of her skin. Her fingers twitch at her side, the twisted knot in her stomach demanding a fag to soothe itself.

"Whizzer! Tomo is going to go bonkers."

Her eyes track the excited pig tailed blonde bouncing her way across the room, a thick package with wrapping paper still clinging to places that were missed in a tearing frenzy in one hand. Pandora the Useless, as Naomi has dubbed her after an odd introduction, flops gracelessly alongside Effy Stonem on the couch. A slight quirk of an eyebrow is Pandora's only acknowledgement.

Effy's gotten the apparent couple, though no Tomo has shown himself yet, season tickets to Arsenal's upcoming football season. Naomi's sure if she'd been a fan she would be excited as well. But she's not, so she isn't and rolls her eyes at Pandora's exuberance.

Emily presses an affectionate squeeze to the brunette's denim clad kneecap before excusing herself to the kitchen. Naomi nibbles her bottom lip, remembering their dance, and wonders just how close of a relationship they really have. Her eyes resume their floor gazing when Emily returns, a drink for herself and a pack of fags for Effy.

Cook, Freddie and JJ, a nervous curly haired boy who'd barely stuttered his name out the first time Naomi had met him two weeks ago, are in the basement occupied by billiard and talk of women. Katie, a louder, lisper version of Emily is squatting beside an enormous Christmas tree sorting through the gifts to be handed out. Pandora's tucked her legs beneath her now, head leaning lightly on a bony shoulder of Effy's.

"Stop being a twat and like, get up," Katie snaps impatiently when Effy doesn't move once she's called the homeowner's name.

Naomi shifts uncomfortably from her position in an overstuffed black arm chair, the familiar prickle of unease filling her. She's out of place in this homey setting and she knows it. These people reek of affection and familiarity, even Katie whose harsh tones are frequently belied by the upward tug of her lips and warm gaze. Naomi's just the awkward stray Cook and Freddie has drug home.

In exasperation Katie tosses a round, badly wrapped gift at the still unmoved brunette but then shuffles nervously foot to foot. Or heel to heel, Naomi should say, seeing as there are four inches of leopard print hell attached to Katie's feet.

It's a giraffe. A small stuffed giraffe. Naomi would almost think it a gag gift for the twenty five year old if not for the way three pairs of eyes have anxiously glued themselves to Effy's face all of the sudden. Katie folds her arms just to unfold them a second later in uncertainty. The moment feels much too intimate and Naomi quickly retreats, giving in to her body's need for nicotine.

She's barely out the back door to the patio before she's found a chair to slouch low in, fag already lit and between her lips. She breathes in deep, the rush of nicotine settling her somewhat.

She glances around, surprised to find the moderately sized yard is as clean and orderly as the house. At one end of the patio, opposite her, is an expensive looking bar-b-q pit and next to it a set of steps leading to an in-ground pool, outlined by beautiful grey stone work. There's a huge oak tree in the left corner of the yard, a wooden bench tucked underneath a low hanging branch. In another corner is what looks to be a shed. It's all so _suburbia_, so far from the chaotic communal living she'd grown up with, Naomi only feels even more out of place.

"Those things will kill ya', you know."

Naomi opens her mouth to retort but the distinct flick of a lighter and hiss of burning fag stops her. Effy slides herself atop a railing across from the blonde. There's a small, almost imperceptible smirk on her face when she takes a long, slow drag from the fag in her hand, breath and smoke visibly mingling in the cold air.

Effy_ fucking _Stonem. Naomi's never paid much attention to magazines like Heat but she's seen enough during brief peaks in long lines at the grocery or lazy evenings at her mum's to know that the skinny brunette drowning in an oversized jumper is not the same Effy the world has been privileged too. The only sign of the media's actress is the light eyeliner highlighting sharp blue eyes.

"Problem," Naomi snaps in irritation as Effy continues to stare. She grounds out what's left of her fag in ashtray on the end table beside her chair.

Instead of answering Effy leans forward, mimics Naomi by putting her fag out as well. Then, without warning, she reaches a hand out, resting long thin fingers on the leg the blonde has been incessantly shaking without realizing.

"It's not so bad."

Naomi tenses, Effy gone before she can reply, a bottle of vodka left in her place on the railing. What the fuck is Effy on about? Fuck, if she isn't going to kill those boys for talking her into this.

* * *

"Like a swinging vine, swing my heart across the liiiiine."

Her lips curl involuntarily at the corners, the red head's ears detecting the faint slur in the words being sung. She's been leant up against the porch railing for a few minutes now, arms folded, quietly observing the drunken woman. Sitting cross legged by the edge of Effy's pool is Naomi, the blonde having abandoned the cast party altogether over an hour ago.

Somehow, it had been unanimously decided she'd be the one to make sure Naomi wasn't passed out somewhere. Seeing Naomi's doing alright she's tempted to go back inside, not a fan of the lower temperatures. She watches her breath come out in small puffs a moment before zipping her hoodie all the way up.

"In my face is flashing signs," Naomi takes a swig from the bottle of vodka in her lap, forcing her next words out in muffled incoherence. " 'eek eh ow and ye sha' find."

_Jesus_, Emily smiles, _she's pissed_. Jon's words about the two of them getting to know one another rings loudly in her head all of the sudden. She sighs, supposing it can't hurt to make conversation.

"I'm not sure JJ even knows the words to that," Emily finally says, referring to the _Blue Skies_ theme song by One Republic, and pushes off of the wooden railing.

She notices the almost immediate shift in Naomi's shoulders at her presence, the young actress sitting up a little straighter. She hiccups and Emily bites back another smile as she settles beside her, making sure to keep enough distance between them so as not to invade the other woman's space further.

"Binge watched the episodes," Naomi shrugs self-consciously, hoping the night will hide the heat she can feel rising rapidly across her cheeks. She hadn't meant to memorize it but the bloody thing had stuck itself in her head after hours of watching the show during the weeks leading up to her audition.

Emily falls silent after that, and save for a few crickets and the soft continuous plop of water against a nearby pool filter the backyard is quiet, the music turned down hours ago. Naomi hiccups again and frowns, embarrassed by her lack of body control. Emily looks away to hide a small grin. _Cute_, she thinks. The seconds stretch quickly to minutes as the tiny red head struggles to find something to say.

Just as the awkwardness threatens to consume her, she's saved by a loud round of laughter emanating from the house. The distinct shriek of Katie's voice follows, yelling at Cook to go fuck himself. She's more surprised by the sound of soft chuckles coming from beside her though.

"Fucking Cook," Naomi mumbles.

"He's kind of horrible, isn't he?"

Naomi's eyes snap to hers', forgetting for a moment that she's no longer by herself. Shadows lit by the reflection of the pool's soft glow dances across her face, moving with every soft lap of the water's surface. Blonde hair appearing almost white in the glow, the read head's gaze is fixed firmly on the blue eyes that seem to sparkle now with a life all of their own. Emily blinks. Naomi grins.

"A right tosser really."

Another beat of silence before Naomi exhales, the alcohol buzzing through her veins overriding her nerves. She tilts the bottle towards Emily, "drink?"

She doesn't miss the adorable scrunch of the red head's button nose as the liquor burns its way down Emily's slim throat. Lips smack together as Emily shakes her head, body shuddering slightly. Naomi quirks an eyebrow but says nothing.

"First sip is always a killer," Emily answers the unspoken question, handing the bottle back. She turns down anymore.

With a 6am train to catch, a quick glance at her watch shows she's just got under 3 hours to departure time, Emily's been staying away from the alcohol tonight. She isn't fond of trains, and even less inclined towards them when nursing a massive hangover. Which is what Naomi and the others are sure to have waiting for them come morning. She's silently grateful that Katie will be staying behind in London an extra day with Effy before heading back to their parents' place in Bristol.

She turns her attention back to Naomi, "so where's home for you?"

"Pool! Pool," Cook's loud, raucous chanting cuts the blonde's response off, causing both girls to whip their heads around to see him. His shirt is already off and he's hopping on one foot as he tries to run and strip his pants off at the same time, still chanting, "pool, pool, pool!"

Cook's flipping rather impressively over their heads into the pool as the girls scramble to put some distance between them and the coming splash.

"Fuckssake" Naomi screeches when she gets hit, the ice water instantly sobering. She levels Cook with a murderous look. "You stupid bloody fucking cunt!"

Cook throws his head back and laughs, unaffected by his friend's colorful vocabulary. She hadn't reacted fast enough and the front of her sweater is nearly soaked through now.

"Come on," Cook calls. "Clothin' optional, loves. Eff's turned the heat on."

Emily hesitates not sure if she should just give in or grab Naomi a new shirt; maybe borrow a spare sweatshirt from Effy for her to change into. She starts to get up, turning back briefly to Cook to flip the young man off, but when she goes to take a step back she's met with a hard resistance. She freezes, tensing instinctively as she feels thin, bony arms wrapping around her midsection.

_Fucking Freds_, is her last coherent thought before she's being lifted, Freddie easily taking her weight with him as he throws their bodies sideways into the freezing pool. Tiny pinpricks of pain erupt all over her body, her chest tightening as her head breaks through the water's surface. As Emily gasps desperately for breath, she spots the blonde, head bent over knees, laughing hysterically.

* * *

**Up next: holiday and then off to set Naomi and Emily go. **


End file.
